Growing up in the Projects in Queens, Ny

A HOUSING PROJECT STORY:

I thought I saw my friend, Shelly, doing the hustle in the basketball park. So, I smiled, and my strides grew wider as I dreamt about learning that trot.

See, Shelly, and I made a promise that whoever learned the Hustle first would teach the dance step to the other. So, when I approached her. I said,

"Hey, now show me."

"I can't."

"What? Why?"

"Because of Pita. I promised her I would not show you the dance that's why she taught me."

I was stunned, hurt, and I realized those words my friend had said meant she was not my friend.

That is when I noticed Pita smirking at my expressive pain. I did not need or want to figure out why she held me in such disdain.

See, I grew up in the ... Projects, and everything was competitive. Corn-braiding -- I could not do -- double dutch jumping -- I tried to do -- smoking -- I choked off of -- boys -- my parents would have killed me -- but dancing well that was my big to do.

See, in my ... Projects, I was one of the few girls known as a quick dance learner, and one of the best dancers to boot. Being a great dancer in the Projects places one in high esteem.

As if I could ever brag about my love of learning or how my reading level was two grades higher than my actual grade.

So, I practiced a dance step -- I learned -- every night and day.

After a while it seemed no one -- including Pita, and Shelly -- wanted to teach me any dance steps.

So, I decided to stop asking, and just watch and learned ....

This story has some facts and some fiction within it.

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